Of Seekers and Inquisitors
by Sister Magpie
Summary: The Inquisitor doubts, but the Seeker is sure. Just a fluffy one-shot.


I'm baaaack! Hello everyone! Sorry for the hiatus... unannounced as it was. Unfortunately I suffer from some pretty severe depression and anxiety, and it got the better of me a few months back. Then once that started easing up, my boyfriend proposed to me, so I had to plan (and partake in!) a wedding. Now that the wedding is done though and life is returning back to normal, I thought I'd pick up the proverbial pen again!

Closer is on hold right now. I started writing it when I was in a pretty dark place, and I'm not sure that I can pick that up quite yet. I have wanted to write something Dragon Age: Inquisition related for a bit now though, so I thought I'd test the waters. Though I am all for strong female leads (femshep ftw), my Inquisitor is a bit different than what I'm used to writing. If you know Cora (and have read her adventures) you'll understand what I mean.

It's nice to be back, and I hope you like this short little one-shot. It's for NaZWin, my little chinchilla orc.

Enjoy!

* * *

The one who repents, who has faith,  
Unshaken by the darkness of the world,  
She shall know true peace.

Transfigurations 10

* * *

 _There's a muffled sound, like words being spoken in a whisper behind a closed door. Close, but also too far away. Cold fingers creep their way in, grasping at any exposed skin they can find. The pressing weight, and the feeling that there isn't enough air. Silent screams like that of demons, faces of those known being burned away in a haze of cold smoke. Falling, fading, lost forever in a dream as the Maker turns away. Sanctuary destroyed in a callous breath of hot air. The smell of fire singes memories, and the cold fingers creep ever higher. To be lost in sleep forever. To forget and be forgotten._

A falling log in the fireplace startles her awake, the scent of smoke replacing the acrid burning of her dream. The room is quiet and dark, and she blinks to clear the sleep from her eyes. The dream is familiar now and has been with her for the past three days. It had taken some time to catch up to her after Haven was destroyed. Her first day was spent walking in the bitter cold, trying to find the people she knew were still out there. When she finally found them she collapsed from exhaustion, and fell into a dreamless sleep. Since arriving at Skyhold though, every night was filled with the same dream, the same screams, and the same feeling of hopelessness.

With a sigh, Celeste sits up and tries to keep the soft fur blankets wrapped around her. The air is cold, but getting up and clearing the dream from her mind is the only way she can hope to ever get back to sleep. The glow from the fire illuminates her boots and cloak, thoughtfully placed by the fire to keep them warm. She throws the cloak over her shoulders, pulling the hood up to cover her auburn hair. Covering her mouth with her hand to hide a yawn, she steps out into the cool night air.

"Inquisitor."

The guard outside her door nods a quiet greeting as she passes, and she wraps her cloak around her more tightly, as if to protect herself from her new title. She had barely gotten used to being called the Herald of Andraste, and now a new, more intimidating role comes calling. She smiles faintly at the guard, and continues towards her goal of forgetting.

Braziers light the small tents that house the wounded, and a healer is sitting by the fire warming herself. Celeste moves quickly through this space, knowing that the men and women in those tents were wounded trying to escape the same thing she did. She lightly steps around bricks and stone that litter the ground, pieces of this great keep that lay forgotten for decades. As she makes her way up the slippery stone stairs towards the battlements, she notices that scaffolding has already come up, and masons will soon be hard at work repairing the damaged walkway that runs through the middle of the keep. From what she's been told, many renovations and repairs are planned, including a private set of rooms for herself. Josephine could barely keep the delight out of her voice as she told Celeste what tapestries she planned on getting, and she wondered too if Celeste would prefer silk or satin for her sheets? Celeste smiles at the memory of a somewhat flustered ambassador, as her response had been "they're just sheets, Josie."

A gust of wind brings her back to the present, as she takes the last step onto the ramparts. The cold wind blows her cloak around, bringing with it the scent of pine and the sound that the ancient sentinels of the Frostback mountains make when the wind rushes through their peaks. A shadow is cast below the door to her left, and she realizes that Cullen is awake, his candles still lighting up his work. She pauses for a brief moment, but decides to stay her course. The dreams leave her flustered as it is, she doesn't want to blush her way through another conversation with her commander. While she is quite sure she had never seen someone so happy to see her as Cullen had been when she rounded the mountain pass, she didn't want to relive that moment quite yet. It was still too fresh, and the wound was still too raw. _All of those people…_

She shakes her head and moves to stand against the edge of the rampart. She presses her hands against the cold stone and inhales deeply. Closing her eyes, she begins to let go of the memories that haunt her. She had tried to help so many, but she couldn't reach them all before the flames took over. Cries for help had come from the tavern, but she was too late, and it was too dangerous to go in. The roars of the dragon overhead had made her stomach turn, the smell of smoke filling her nostrils and clogging her lungs had been like poison. Celeste clenches her jaw at the memory of coming to, surrounded by fire, a dark figure coming out of the flames themselves, right towards her…

"You cannot sleep?"

She turns her head towards the sound of the familiar voice, as the Seeker walks towards her. Cassandra has wrapped herself up in a cloak as well, and Celeste quirks an eyebrow at the distinct lack of any armour or weapons.

"I thought that armour was part of your body. It actually comes off?"

"Of course it does, though I do feel strange without it. Do you mind if I join you?"

"Not at all."

Celeste looks down at her hands, relaxing them once more against the cool stone as they settle into a companionable silence. She catches a glimpse of the myriad of lights farther down the valley where hundreds of refugees have set up camp. Tiny plumes of smoke rise into the cold night air, and she wonders how many more people will end up coming to Skyhold. She exhales deeply, a strange weight starting to settle on her shoulders at the thought of hundreds more flocking to the safety of this fortress.

"It is quite a sight, isn't it? To have saved so many must feel like a victory."

Celeste frowns, her blue gaze turning to meet Cassandra's own eyes, "It feels like a victory that came at a high cost. We lost so many."

"We did, Maker watch over them. And so many still come through to us, dozens a day. Skyhold was not even prepared for us, let alone the pilgrims that make their way here."

"How many more?"

"Too many for us to house here. They join the camp on the river down below us. Able bodied men and women come up here to join Cullen's militia, a few seek to work with Leliana. But for the most part, there are a lot of women and children down there who are looking to you to save them."

"They are looking at us to save them," Celeste corrects, flinching slightly at the thought of people making a pilgrimage to seek out her protection, "Alone I am powerless."

"Is that what you see?" Cassandra asks, a smile quirking on her lips. Celeste watches her companion lean forward against the low wall, resting her forearms against the stone. Puffs of warm air escape from her lips as she speaks again, "Because what I see is very different. Had I known what would happen from the beginning, I may not have put you in the dungeon below Haven so quickly."

"So quickly? You mean, you still would have?" Celeste asks with a chuckle.

"What I mean is that I would have thought about it, instead of reacting out of grief. I could not see past the loss of Divine Justinia, and I needed someone to blame. That unfairly fell at your feet." Cassandra replies quietly.

"It's not like you didn't have reason to suspect me, Cassandra. I alone walk out of an explosion that levels all of the Temple of Sacred Ashes? I'd have arrested me too."

"Your sense of humour does you credit."

"Well, part of me has to, because the rest of me does not believe this is real."

"And yet it is. Losing you, only to find you once more. Losing Haven, only to find Skyhold. I believe that the Maker has set us on this path, with you to lead us through this."

"I don't know how to do this," Celeste whispers.

"Neither do I, my friend. But I believe in this Inquisition, and I believe in you."

They pass a moment in silence, and Celeste works once more to rid her mind of the dream, focusing on Cassandra's words instead. She breathes in the cold mountain air and watches the twinkling of a million pinpricks of light in the black vastness above her. The calm and quiet of Skyhold will help people heal, and help the Inquisition to prepare for what is to come. _Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide._

"I am glad you're with me, Cassandra. Without you, I don't think I would be able to do this."

Cassandra stands up once more, brushing tiny pebbles from the sleeves of her cloak, "Do not let Cullen hear you say that. I think perhaps he might feel saddened to find that your attention does not rest on him," she finishes with a small smile. Celeste stares at the Seeker, confusion at the statement taking momentary control of her. Then, as though a candle was quickly lit, she realises what Cassandra is talking about.

"Cassandra! I did not know Seekers listened to the gossip." Celeste stammers with a furious blush creeping up onto her cheeks.

"I am a Seeker of Truth. I do hear things, and I am certainly not blind," Cassandra replies with a laugh, "though I am no Spymaster."

"Maker's breath…" Celeste swears as she tries to hide herself in her cloak.

Cassandra laughs once more, placing a hand on Celeste's arm, "Don't worry, Inquisitor. Your secret is safe with us. I think though that happiness might be worth chasing, don't you? With all that's going on around us… just do not get to the end of your days with regrets. I do not regret the path I took that led me here, and I will remain by your side, for as long as the threat remains."

Cassandra squeezes Celeste's arm affectionately, before leaving her alone once more. A cold wind picks up again, and she shivers against the chill. She looks towards Cullen's door and notices the candlelight still shining outwards, a shadow briefly passing by again, as though he is pacing across the room. Another gust of wind forces her to make up her mind, and she heads towards his door.


End file.
